


Reaching

by apartment



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apartment/pseuds/apartment
Summary: Alec just wants to let go of control. Just for now. Just for Magnus. Or scratch that, heneeds.or: emotional h/c non-sexual submission“Oh, baby,” Magnus breathes. “Why are you crying?” He swipes a thumb over Alec’s cheek, and it’s only then that Alec realizes.Heiscrying. But try as he might, Alec can’t stop.





	Reaching

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever feel something just slipping from your grasp but your fingers don't seem to work anymore and you just can't grab it back no matter how hard you try but you also don't even know what you're losing?
> 
>  
> 
> i didn't read this over after i wrote it and i honestly don't plan to so ignore any typos, thanks

Magnus is moving purposefully around the kitchen when Alec lets himself into the loft. It’s been a week since they’ve seen each other and even longer since they’ve spent any quality time alone, together, inside. This dinner is a planned celebration of Alec’s temporary break, and he’s looking forward to spending it here, with Magnus.

There’s a faint smell of tomato in the air, the sauteeing of onions and garlic that makes his mouth water. He hasn’t eaten all day, but Alec honestly forgot until this point.

Surely, Magnus knows that Alec’s arrived; his wards would have announced his presence. But even as Alec leans against the wall of the kitchen and watches him work, idly chopping something, Magnus doesn’t turn around.

So Alec takes a moment to just look at Magnus, to admire him. To observe the minute movements of his back and shoulders as he moves about, to see the long line of his neck and the black ear cuffs he’s partial to. To look at _him_ , just _Magnus_ , the person, the most loving man he’s ever met.

Alec _loves_ him. He loves him like walking on the earth barefoot and feeling the cold dirt under his toes. He loves him like discovering something that’s been present all along. He loves him like the cold steel of his bow, the precision of his arrows.

He loves him like the times Magnus is cooking in the kitchen, humming a song Alec doesn’t know under his breath, preparing dinner for two, and Alec is watching him from the doorway.

Alec feels like crying, briefly, but tamps down on it. His emotions have been tumultuous at best all week, and today’s been particularly unsteady. And seeing Magnus here, to regard him with such rising emotion, Alec really just _wants…_ Yeah, he knows what he wants. Needs, almost.

Almost unbidden, Alec greets: “Hey.” His voice is quiet, but even over the sizzling of oil, Magnus hears him. He turns and shoots a fond smile over his shoulder.

“Come here and kiss me,” says Magnus, his eyes crinkling. “I would join you, but…,” and he gestures with a nod at the general state of the kitchen.

Alec obeys, crossing the length of the kitchen and joining Magnus at the stove. He leans down, pressing a brief but hard kiss to his lips. It feels like something settling with him, like coming home. Alec nearly shudders.

“I made us tea,” says Magnus, when Alec stays silent. He floats a mug over to Alec from the far counter.

Magnus glances over Alec as he does so, scrutinizing his expression for _something_ , but Alec can’t bring himself to worry about it, or address it. Let Magnus figure it out—it would honestly make things easier. He almost hopes Magnus can read him from just the tenseness of his shoulders.

Alec takes the proffered mug, glad for the warmth in his hands. Steam rises and seems to coat his face, and somehow even that sets Alec at ease a little. He breathes in the aroma, inhaling deeply and letting it settle around him, _within_ him, like a blanket in his chest.

But still, it doesn’t truly help; the relief is temporary, and because Alec knows it, it’s even more short-lived than it might have been. Still, the warm press of ceramic under his fingers is an anchor when he’s so awry and out of sorts.

Abruptly, Alec feels cold, and he only barely withholds his shiver. Looking down at the mug, Alec swishes the tea around a little and takes a small sip. Magnus watches him the entire time, his demeanor worried but otherwise inscrutable.

The tea is good, and something about it makes tears rise through Alec’s chest. He clenches his hand tighter around the mug, and feels the request spill from him, from the tips of his toes to his shaking shoulders.

“Magnus, I—” _need_. Alec pauses, starts over. “Can you... take me down tonight?”

The concern on Magnus’ face disappears, transformed instead into a relieved understanding. Yet even as Alec watches, Magnus’ eyebrows furrow again, and the worry returns. He asks, “Did something happen?”

Alec isn’t sure what he was expecting—it certainly wasn’t rejection or off-hand denial—but Magnus’ quick acceptance of the situation is comforting. He shakes his head, “No, I just—. It’s been a long week.”

It’s frustrating how inarticulate Alec is right now. He and Magnus have long dispelled any shyness regarding the more dominant-slash-submissive side of their relationship, but right now, Alec is stretched too thin to make his words feel right.

When Magnus doesn’t say anything for a long few seconds, Alec continues, nearly begs: “Can you please—. I don’t. _Anything._ ”

He blinks, and suddenly Magnus is there, inches away from Alec and cupping his cheek. Alec leans into it, into the way Magnus strokes his cheekbone with a thumb. The pads of his fingers are soft against Alec’s skin, warm to the touch and achingly familiar.

Alec lets himself feel it, sink into just this hand pressed against his cheek. He closes his eyes: _Yes_ , this is what he craves. It’s been so long since he’s allowed himself to let go this way, between the uptick in missions and the inconvenience of how much time a scene takes.

“Not ‘anything,’” says Magnus, bringing Alec back to reality. Alec’s eyes flutter open, and he braces himself for disappointment. But Magnus only says, his tone reassuring and gentle: “I need you to tell me what you’re looking for tonight, Alexander.”

Alec licks his lips nervously, but nods. He doesn’t know what he wants tonight specifically, only that his one end goal is subspace. Subspace without a drop afterwards, if possible. Magnus simply reading him and knowing him and making him feel loved and taken care of.

He doesn’t care how he gets there. So Alec replies, “I don’t care _how_. But I need to feel more like myself. Like I’m on steady ground. The world is just—.  _God_ , Magnus, I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my own skin.”

With a soft smile, Magnus runs a hand through Alec’s hair. The light tug of it makes Alec’s head tilt back, and he bites back a groan at the feeling. It’s instant solace, trembling down his spine until his body shivers happily.

Magnus hums quietly, then muses: “How about something less sexual? I don’t think either of us is up for anything heavy tonight, and I think I can drop you just like this.”

It’s an open question, and Alec knows Magnus is fully expecting him to really think about it. If Alec refuses and asks to get off, Magnus will most likely acquiesce, even if he’s uninterested in anything for himself.

It's a difficult choice. The easiest way for Alec to reach subspace is through sexual acts. He enjoys being used by Magnus, maneuvered how he likes him, and for the touches to be both comforting and full of fire and intent. It isn’t often that he’s been able to reach subspace through purely sensual domming; Alec’s mind runs too quickly, overthinking and examining every idea.

But if Magnus thinks he can, Alec isn’t one to doubt him. To doubt his dom. With a brief exhale, Alec nods, and he nearly hears something inside him slide into place, already re-aligning. It’s a heady relief.

Magnus hand slides from his hair and cups the back of Alec’s neck. He squeezes lightly, and Alec can feel his eyes flutter almost instinctively. “Give me a color, Alexander,” orders Magnus.

“Green,” Alec breathes.

Magnus twists his hand a couple of times and the food on the stove quickly arranges itself into something more prepared. “Have you eaten today?” Magnus asks, and frowns slightly when Alec shakes his head.

A beat, where Magnus just considers Alec and the situation, and then Alec is stumbling a little, surprised, as Magnus nudges him out of the kitchen and into the living room. Magnus doesn’t let him fall. He brings Alec to the sofa, pressing down on his shoulders until Alec takes the hint and sinks to his knees on the ground.

Magnus sits on the couch with his legs on either side of Alec, far enough forward that Alec can lean against him. He does so with a small, content sigh.

Early on, he and Magnus discovered that Alec preferred not to kneel, per se, at Magnus’ feet; he enjoys curling up and resting his head against Magnus’ knee or thigh, but the rigidity of kneeling never truly appealed.

So Alec knows Magnus doesn’t mind when he slumps over slightly, sitting back on his butt and drawing his knees up to his chest. He curls into one of Magnus’ legs, allowing his forehead to rest against the soft flesh of Magnus’ thigh.

Soon, fingers begin combing through Alec’s hair, petting him in a consistent, constant rhythm that lulls Alec into a deep comfort. It’s hard not to lean into the touch, so Alec doesn’t bother restraining himself. He shamelessly presses into it, displaying how much he adores Magnus’ hands.

After only a few moments, Magnus snaps his fingers, and a plate of food appears on the sofa next to him. It’s a spiced bread, prepared with garlic and herbs, and it smells heavenly to Alec’s famished body. Keeping one hand still running along Alec’s scalp, Magnus tears a bit off and brings it to Alec’s mouth.

Immediately, Alec settles. No matter how many times they scene together, eating from Magnus’ hands will always be one of Alec’s favorite activities. It’s intimate and careful, and Magnus treats him so incredibly delicately.

He’s distinctly reminded of the food sitting on the countertop, lovingly prepared by Magnus for them to eat tonight. Although Alec’s desires postponed such plans, he’s not disappointed in Magnus’ decision to summon a food that could be eaten without a utensil.

He savors the touch of Magnus’ fingertips against his lips and how Magnus will use his thumb to make sure Alec gets all of the bite. Being taken care of like this is so foreign to Alec that it feels new, every single time.

“You’re so good to me,” says Magnus, gentle and sweet. Alec shivers and closes his eyes, sighing against the fabric of Magnus’ pants.

He loves this: the praise, the kindness, and the soft, almost musical quality of Magnus’ voice. Is there anything he _doesn’t_ love? Alec doesn’t have mind enough to think about it.

Magnus feeds him another bite, holding it to Alec’s mouth so he can eat it with his eyes closed. Alec chews almost idly, his attention on Magnus.

He doesn’t feel too close to subspace yet, although Magnus is certainly doing a good job of making sure Alec will get there eventually. But a large part of Alec, the section that needs to drop more than air, is increasingly afraid that he just won’t be able to.

That he’ll disappoint Magnus, who has such faith in his ability to be taken down and let go of control. Alec thinks he might go crazy if he doesn’t get over the edge today. The halfway-subspace he’s been getting to when Magnus and he have phone sex isn’t enough anymore.

Alec doesn’t realize he’s whining lowly until Magnus hums, a rumble in his chest, and soothes, “Shh, Alexander. I have you. We’ll get you there, okay?”

Alec feels stripped to muscle and taken apart from there. The pieces of his body don’t fit anymore, and his mind is similarly unwound. It’s like he’s scrambled and unable to see which way is up. He wants to reach subspace so badly it hurts, but he _can’t_. He can’t like this.

He thinks about calling yellow, or even red, and renegotiating the terms of the night. But he remembers Magnus' thoughtful face as he suggested sensual domming. Alec just wishes, so _badly_ , that he could.

He whispers, a choked-out sound, unable to say more: “ _Magnus_.” Alec doesn’t have the words for it. He just wants. He wants, he needs, _he needs, please—_

“You deserve this,” says Magnus, his voice pitched low. He pauses, seems to regard Alec. “I know it’s been a hard couple of days.”

It’s the second part that makes Alec break a little, like something pulled from him viscerally. It’s a validation of his struggle, an acknowledgment of all pressure on his shoulders. Alec feels _so_ lonely sometimes, so heavy with the weight of scrutiny.

And here’s Magnus, absolving him of that pedestal and bringing Alec back to even ground. All the water that Alec was drowning in, salt-stinging and vast and deep and dark, floods away with just that single sentence.

“Oh, baby,” Magnus breathes. “Why are you crying?” He swipes a thumb over Alec’s cheek, and it’s only then that Alec realizes.

He _is_ crying. But try as he might, Alec can’t stop. He sniffles and blinks furiously, but the tears keep coming. They don’t burn the way frustration or anger do, or make his eyes feel swollen and red; instead, they’re soft and painless, like droplets of near whispers.

They fall onto his cheeks, one by one, uneven, and Magnus is there to wipe them away. Alec feels his shoulders begin to tremble. At his first real sob, a bitten-off, choked whimper of a thing, Alec ducks his head, shying away from Magnus’ hands.

But Magnus doesn’t let him. In seconds, Magnus joins him on the ground, bundling Alec up into his arms as best he can. Alec’s broad frame doesn’t help, and for a second Alec _hates_ his body, he hates _,_ he _hates_ how it makes him feel, how he can’t even get a fucking hug from Magnus _, and oh no, if this continues he’s going to drop and that’s not what he wanted today—_

And then suddenly, Alec’s arms are immobile, wrapped around his middle as he hunches over in Magnus’ embrace. After a single second of panic, Alec realizes it’s Magnus’ magic restraining him, but the momentary surprise breaks him out of his spiral. Alec looks up at Magnus, grateful.

It’s beyond him how Magnus knows what Alec needs, what he wants, what his body and mind yearn for. Just from this, Alec can feel his haywire emotions slot back into place.

Objectively, Alec knows compartmentalizing his emotions and actively repressing aren’t the healthiest of coping mechanisms. But it’s often easier for him, as a leader and a warrior, to keep irrational thoughts in a neat row of boxes until useful.

It’s Magnus who brings Alec’s guard down, who sits with Alec patiently as he unboxes everything he’s hidden away and unwraps himself. It’s just that sometimes it’s a little messier than that, and it feels like unraveling instead.

But those days, too, Magnus is there.

Alec can nearly feel himself slip from conscious thought into something a little more muffled, a little safer and lighter. He burrows deeper into Magnus’ hold, the warmth that he provides.

One of Magnus’ hands run along Alec’s back, a soothing hand that keeps Alec grounded. The other one runs through his hair, petting Alec quietly and softly, sometimes scratching lightly along his scalp as if to remind him of its presence. As if Alec could forget.

It feels indescribably good, not just physically, but mentally, too. Even as Alec floats, he can feel himself re-situating, shifting back into place. The loose and stray ends of himself, the frayed knots that have been scraping at his insides, all untangle and straighten into his spine.

“Good boy, Alexander,” praises Magnus. His fingers tighten, and he presses a small kiss to Alec’s forehead. “You are so precious to me. My sweet, loving one.”

Alec is crying, but it doesn’t feel like crying like this. Pinned down in Magnus’ arms, curled against each other, he is more himself than he has been in ages. It feels like catharsis.

Later, when some unknowable amount of time has passed, Alec blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting at the bright light in the room. It dims immediately at Magnus' command, for which Alec is grateful, but he has time only to look up at Magnus and try to smile before a bone-deep exhaustion makes him droop.

Magnus’ magic dissipates around Alec’s arms, but although he has his full range of movement back, Alec doesn’t move, content to stay within the circle of Magnus’ arms. He’s curled up impossibly small, as much as his lithe but tall body allows him, but somehow, Magnus has made do, pulling him even closer than Alec remembers.

It’s deeply satisfying to come to like this, as if stepping out of a dream. Alec’s fatigue makes is difficult to move, or _want_ to move, but he has no qualms about that. Today, there’s been no misstep as he comes to, no sudden, uncontrollable fall to subdrop.

Alec’s already cried himself out due to Magnus’ words and touch and comfort, and right now, he floats back down to the ground, easy. Somehow, _somehow_ , Magnus has managed to take Alec down in exactly the way he most desired. That he most needed.

Magnus passes Alec a glass of water, and Alec uncurls enough to wrap his hand around it. The glass is cool to the touch, and he sips from it slowly. Alec looks at Magnus’ hand, strong and pretty and with many rings, then at his face, where Magnus smiles tenderly.

There are no words for the way Alec loves Magnus right now. The way he wants to bury deep inside him and never leave, to feel Magnus’ heart within his own. This man that Alec cares so deeply about is a reason to return from every mission, to think of his own safety, too.

Because sometimes, Alec ignores his body’s needs or the fact that it’s drained. His brain has such tight control over his every function that if he wills it to, even physical exhaustion is irrelevant. He’s a machine in a man, forging onwards endlessly, even when running on fumes.

It’s dangerous, especially in his line of work. But when Alec feels like a shell, rusted and empty and slowly decaying, it’s Magnus who loves him to life.

Scenes with Magnus are their own little corner of the world, carved out for Alec to restart, recalibrate. To find himself again before duty beckons and tugs him back. Already the lines of his shoulders are more relaxed, as if his burden is lifted.

Already, Alec breathes easier. Magnus breathes with him.

**Author's Note:**

> i don't want to bother with a bdsm-talk this time but sensual/non-sexual d/s is very much a thing and often something people need more than a sexual scene
> 
> anyway, i'm feeling kinda unsteady rn, i've had a rough going the past few days and i think this fic was more an avenue for me than anything else. it's been awhile since i wrote something solely for myself but hey, fandom is apart of me too, so i decided to share it 
> 
> i have just about one more fic i want to post before i take a break from the fandom, i think, unless inspiration strikes as it did with this. but please look forward to that within the next month. it's a greek god au and i've poured a lot of love into it. 
> 
> i'm p active on [twitter](http://twitter.com/inviq) these days so come hang w/ me there. i also check [tumblr](http://apartmented.tumblr.com) at least once a day, but honestly, twitter is the way to go.
> 
> i also have a [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/apartment) and a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/aptseri), if you're so inclined


End file.
